What not to Mention
by SilverMoonPhantom
Summary: Castiel is caught doing a certain private act while on the phone with Dean. This leads to a rather long night of... Well, I'm sure you can guess. (Also known as PWP)


The phone was a bit cold, pressed against Dean's ear. He drummed his fingers along the Impala's steering wheel, the growling hum of her engine making a perfect backdrop to his music.

The road was swept under her tires, the nearest car a dark smudge on the horizon ahead of him. Illinois wasn't exactly a hilly state, though the highways curved occasionally for no apparent reason.

The ringing in his ear cut off abruptly, followed by a small breath and a low "Hello Dean"

"Hey Cas, I'd like some info on a sigil Sammy found last night." There was a small sound on the other side.

"Wonderin' if you could help. You doing anything?"

There was that sound again, something between a breathy sigh and a hum. Strange, Castiel rarely seemed to make unnecessary noises. Dean opened his mouth to ask if he was in trouble, when the response cut him off.

"Yes, I am currently pleasuring myself, but I'd be happy to help."

The gears in his brain abruptly ground to a halt, his mouth going dry. Dean swallowed, jumping as his baby's tires hit the rumble strip to the side of his lane and abruptly corrected his handhold on the steering wheel.

He vaguely registered the creak of leather from the tight grip.

"Is... Is that so?" He managed, trying to force his voice to some semblance of calm. Was this real? Was he really hearing this?

Castiel's voice was a bit strained as he murmured back, the arousal clear now that Dean knew what to listen for. Jesus Christ.

"I can stop, or finish quickly if you need assistance immediately."

Dean did not squeak, no he did not.

"No! No, that's fine. You just... Just keep doing what you're doing."

Cas gave a little sigh, and there was a rustle of cloth on the other end. Oh god, what was he up to? Was he naked? Clothed? In a motel somewhere, sitting awkwardly in front of the TV with his dick in one hand and Dean's voice against his ear?

"So..." Dean managed, checking all his mirrors and flicking the music off. He could feel his dick pressing up against cloth and resistant denim, his belly tight all of the sudden. He swallowed again."What exactly are you doing?"

"Do you want me to describe every action?" There was another rustle of cloth, and a slow breath from the angel.

Dean eased on the breaks, slowing to a stop on the edge of the highway, throwing his baby into 'Park'

"Yeah, just... Whatever you're doing. Whatever's on your mind." Dean cursed at himself for sounding like fucking therapist, but hunched down in his seat, praying that a cop didn't pull over to 'help' him. His free hand was fumbling with the seatbelt latch when Castiel finally replied.

"I am stroking my penis with one hand. I am wondering if you need help, but refuse to ask for it."

The words were so blandly stated that Dean couldn't help but huff out a laugh, finally getting the latch undone and ignoring the protesting zip of the seat belt whipping into place.

"I'm fine Cas, the sigil can wait. I'm not in trouble, and I just want you to tell me what you're up to."

He ran a finger aside the line of his jeans, his own breath growing tight at the thought of Castiel mirroring his actions.

"So, uh... What're you wearing? Same old coat and tie?"

There was a long pause, as if Castiel was surveying his own state of dress, or wondering what the hell Dean was thinking. Maybe both.

"I am wearing all of my usual clothing, though the tie is loosened for maximized breathing ability and the pants are undone, my hand within."

Castiel made a soft humming noise, his breaths still audible.

Dean barely restrained a curse, dragging his knuckles up against the denim of his jeans, tracing his erection. He popped open the button, zipper slowly opening on its own.

"Yeah?" He murmured, feeling another stab of arousal when his fingers touched cotton. "How are you touching yourself?" He was really doing this. Having phone sex with an angel on the side of a highway in fucking Illinois.

"Fingers curled around the shaft, slow rubbing." was the prompt reply, and Dean bit his lip in frustration. It felt like he was getting sexy thoughts from a textbook. It was the tone of that stinking voice, pretty much purring into his ear.

"Plan on doing anything else?" He asked, raising an eyebrow with full knowledge that Cas couldn't see him.

There was a pause.

"Is this not correct?" Castiel's voice was inquisitive, and Dean could tell that if they were in the same room, he'd be on the receiving end of an endless blue stare. The voice continued, sounding unsure.

"Would you tell me the proper procedure to this activity?

Shit shit shit shit there's no way this could be real.

Dean sunk down in his seat, hand hovering just over his crotch. He could feel the heat radiating off it, feel his heartbeat throb in the length.

"Yes- Yeah, I can do that. Where are you, anyway?"

"I'm on Anna's couch."

Dean froze.

"Anna, like angel-Anna?"

"Yes, that Anna."

Dean turned his head, not sure he liked this turn of events. Not sure he knew why he didn't like this.

"And you two are..."

"We are friends and allies. She allows me a place in her home when you two don't. She is currently out."

Dean resolved to invite the guy over more often. He took a sharp breath, gusting out abruptly and pulling the lever to lean his seat back. He shifted to re-align his back along the leather.

"Rub your thumb along the head, back and forth."

Dean listened closely to Cas's response, took in the hitch in breathing and the rustle of cloth.

"Now squeeze just under the head and slowly pull away from yourself, until it slides through."

"Alright" Castiel responded, voice close to a whisper.

Dean was acutely aware of the sound of cicadas in the distance, crickets chirping in harmony. There was a car approaching, the sound of tires on asphalt becoming louder.

"Make a tight fist, push your hips up so you're fucking your own hand."

There was a sound like a cut-off moan, and Dean couldn't help but hiss out a shuddering breath, free hand trapped between denim and cotton, cradling his erection against his lower stomach and up and down the length.

"Feels good, doesn't it. Let go now, and drag your fingertips along the underside, touch your-" Dean's voice cut off abruptly, his voice too dry to continue. He swallowed, listening to a quiet whimper and panting breaths on the other end of the line. God, what he wouldn't give to see that show. The car passed, a flash of headlights and tires and wind battering against the Impala.

"Rake your nails up the inside of your thigh, then take your dick and pump it hard, like you were a second ago."

"Aah~" Dean thrust his hips up without thinking, his mouth falling open at the sound of what was definitely a moan.

"Christ, Cas, work with what you like. Um." He closed his eyes, trying to think of instructions. He wasn't thinking clearly, the panting in his ear clogging all higher functions.

"Swipe your palm over the head, drag your thumb over the slit."

A choked-off breath made him bite his lip, and the soft "Deaaaan" closed his eyes. He gave up on maintaining his dignity, yanking his hand out and shoving it down directly to skin.

"God, yes." He muttered, pumping his own erection in a tight fist. "You sound beautiful, Cas. just awesome. Unbutton or push up your white shirt, pinch a nipple. Can you do that for me?"

A rustle of cloth and a soft noise. "Y-yeah."

"Roll it under your thumb, then play with your balls." Dean managed to wonder how he survived this long if sex made him half this incoherent.

He changed the angle of his pumps, pressing the back of his head into the leather seat, the phone harder into his ear to catch every nuance of the hitched breaths and faint sounds of pleasure.

"Stroke yourself again, faster this time. Change your angles every sixth stroke, and vary your speed every tenth."

He didn't know if the exact instructions would help, but there was a pattern to the sounds now, every inhale accompanied by a quick sigh of pleasure. Dean could match his strokes by those sounds, spreading his legs apart and canting up his hips as far as the steering wheel would allow. He pulled his length out, the skin flushed and a bit damp from sweat and smeared precum.

"Now slow down, that's it. Twist on every upstroke, tilt your hand so your thumb drags over the tip every few."'

Cas was definitely panting at this point, fabric rustling in a rhythm.

"Dean, I-"

"You're doing great, just keep going. Keep doing what you're doing."

Dean sped up his strokes, eyes tightly closed and concentrating almost completely on the sound of Castiel's voice, rough and breathless.

"Dean, I'm..."

"Come on, Cas. Go for it. Just fuck it out." Dean bared his teeth, hearing how the angel's breath snagged, breaking into a quiet whimper, then going completely silent for a moment.

Dean cursed, shoving his hips up as he pumped his fist to chase his own orgasm, feeling the tidal wave of pleasure swell through his abdomen before coming to a crest, exploding like lightning up his spine and his dick. He cupped his hand over the head, pressing it against his belly and gasping at the ceiling when he felt pulses of his own cum dart against his palm. It slid out from between his loose fingers, but that mess was far better than getting it on the dashboard or, god forbid, on the seats or ceiling.

Castiel's breathing picked back up on the other line, slow and measured, like he was getting used to himself again.

"Welcome back" Dean sighed, picking his hand up and examining the fluid dripping down. He wiped it on the side of his shirt, resolving to change shirts as soon as possible.

That had been way too hot to be real.

"Dean?" The innocent, questioning tone just made him exasperated. He started putting together jigsaw pieces, feeling like an idiot.

"There's no way that was your first time with masturbation, is there." Dean muttered, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Castiel made a noise of amusement, Dean groaned.

"I'm a multidimensional being older than the human race. Do you honestly believe I haven't seen every possible position for human intercourse?" God Cas, way to snark. Wait... Every...what? He was tired and sticky, but very much interested in pursuing future actions of similar nature. He cleared his throat.

"Did you have something in mind?"

He heard a quiet laugh before the phone cut out, then the subtle flap of wings and creaking of leather seats behind him.

There was a warm breath just under his ear, the faint scrape of stubble against his cheek.

Dean inhaled, lifting his jaw minutely as the low voice was suddenly far less tinny, louder and more promising than any phone call.

"I'm sure I could come up with something."

* * *

There was little on his mind when Dean tilted his head up, eyes finding Castiel's in the mid-afternoon sunlight streaming through the Impala's windows. A moment of quiet anticipation was held between them when the angel cocked his head to the side. They could feel each other's body heat from proximity.

Dean was frozen, the phone silent against his ear, one hand messy with drying cum. He could hear the faint breathing of the other man, see one ear glowing red with sunlight filtering through blood. The smell of sex was strong inside his car, and he briefly wondered if he should crack a window.

A slide of movement and he felt fingers brush the other side of his head, carding through short hair and tracing the shell of his ear. He held his breath without thinking, some part of him believing that any sudden movement would scare the angel away. Which didn't really make sense, considering what had just transpired between them.

Castiel's fingers slid around the back of his ear, tucking behind the line of his jaw and tracing down his neck. Dean swallowed, his attention on how the slight drag of pressure drew circles around his adam's apple, pulling up to the soft skin just under his chin. The sunlight was warm on his forearms, neck aching slightly due to how it was craned against the leather seat.

His voice was a low rumble in Dean's ear when Castiel asked "Would you be... interested, in such a thing?" Dean could feel his breath against his cheek, a tiny tug when chapped lips snagged against the corner of his own. He tilted his head, aiming to capture those lips with his own. There was a pang of disspointment when the angel moved away, just enough so they would not touch.

Dean couldn't see those blue eyes from this angle, but he was able to spot the quirk of lips in the beginnings of a smile. His own voice felt rough, answering.

"Depends on what you're asking for."

The hand at his neck dipped lower, tracing a tendon and dipping into the hollow of Dean's throat. A gentle rythym was tapped out on his pulse point, and the hand settled down until it was draped over his neck and collarbone. He reflexively tightened his grip on his phone when he felt the tip of Castiel's nose touch his jaw line, a brush of lips on the shell of his ear.

"I'm asking if you'd like to have intercourse with me, Dean Winchester."

Well, then. Can't get much more crystal clear than that.

He finally moved his arm, dropping his cell into the passanger seat before lifting his hand to touch the back of Castiel's head. He just pressed down at first, before lacing his fingers into the black hair.

"I think." He murmured, tugging the angel further forward, tilting his own head. "...I would like that very much." Their lips finally touched, a brush of sensitive skin.

Castiel made a small sound as they pushed together, mouths opening aginst each other, lips sliding and breaths mingling.

Dean adjusted his shoulder, neck finally aching enough to try and fix something. His eyes were closed, mind absorbed in the warm hair between his fingers and the body heat of the angel hovering over him.

"Hold still." Castiel's voice slid across his brain, his shoulders relaxing in response. Dean opened his eyes, blinking against the light. The angel was surprisingly nimble as he crawled between the two front seats, sliding sideways to kneel on either side of Dean's lap.

A touch on his wrist, and the mess from his last orgasm vanished.

The hunter lifted his hands, dry palms skating over the shoulders of that tan trenchcoat, snagging on lapels and pressing against the heated skin around a smooth throat. He could feel the pulse flutter inside those very human veins as Castiel leaned forward. Dean pushed his head up to meet him halfway, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his skull.

Dean exhaled as the other man spread his legs, sitting fully on his lap. He tried to press his hips upward, but the hard line of the steering wheel dug into the top of his thighs. He licked his lips, eyes flicking between Castiel's eyes and mouth.

"Unfair advantage, man." He almost wasn't able to speak, his throat catching on the vowels and turning them raspy.

The corner of the angel's lips quirked upward, head tilting sideways. He slid his hips across Dean's thighs, ending with the curve of the man's stomach pressing against his front.

Dean groaned, shoving his forehead into the warmth of Castiel's shoulder, turning his head to nip the skin at his throat. He felt the other man pull back, his own pants tugging downward with the friction. Dean followed him back, hands fisting in the shoulders of the tan overcoat. He pulled him in for another kiss, fighting the sounds that wanted to escape his throat when Castiel's hands hooked under his shirt. He arched forward when fingers dug into the sore muscles of his lower back, blunt fingernails scraping across his skin.

Too much hunting and driving, not enough bed rest and far too many crappy motel mattresses had left his back stiff.

Castiel placed his hands on the shoulders of the car seat, rolling his hips up so his clothed erection slid across Dean's exposed one. The hunter shoved his hands down the back of the dark slacks, kneading against a muscular rear and pulling his groin up for more friction. His mind was sparking with disbelief and eagerness, trying to absorb every moment to relive later.

The angel's voice was breathy as he whispered into Dean's ear.

"I'll meet you at your room, tonight."

A flutter of wings and a sharp gust of wind swirling around the interior of his car, and suddenly Dean was the only person inside.

He froze, staring at the ceiling and arms hanging awkwardly in the air. His brain stuttered to a halt, not actually understanding what had just happened. His erection was still riding the sensations and echoes of sounds, but Cas was... gone?

Cheerful chirping from crickets only served to heighten his sudden frustration, golden sunlight lighting up eddies of pollen outside his window. Barely 4 in the afternoon.

Fuck.

* * *

Dean had tucked himself in, buttoned up his jeans and sat alone in the car for a good twenty minutes before finally starting up the Impala. All that, and Cas had just...left?

Part of him wanted to insult the dude, rant and rave about how this was so unfair, and the guy shouldn't keep him waiting. The rest of him was a bit too distracted by the promise the angel had dropped before he left.

And so, Dean drove. Highway miles vanished under the Impala's tires as he returned to the Motel where he and Sam were staying. Back past the run-down roller skating arena and that one diner that was having a half-price waffle breakfast tomorrow. He made a side note to go back there.

By the time he returned, the sun had already set on the small town they were staying in, the evening sky still a rich blue beyond street lights. Across the parking lot, there was a group of motorcyclists laughing, swapping stories in loud voices and widely gesturing arms. As Dean stepped out, he heard one of them yell at him. He turned, picking out a grey-bearded man with a sleeve tattoo who was waving at him.

The man cupped his hands to his mouth, shouting across the lot. "Your car is fucking beautiful!"

Dean waved back, shooting a thumbs-up. The man aggressively returned the gesture with both hands, turning back to his friends with another bout of laughter.

The hunter smiled to himself as he locked the car, turning his back on the group and inserting the neon card into his room's electronic lock. It flashed yellow at him and he huffed, trying again. Green.

As he turned the knob, his mind flashed through various scenarios. Sam inside, talking to Cas about what had transpired. Sam alone, with his teasing angel heading for the hills. Castiel spread out on the bed with rose petals and cheesy saxaphone music playing or-

He stepped into the room, the doorknob sliding back into place loudly. Dean surveyed the room, trying to fight the growing disappointment clawing up in the pit of his gut.

Sam's clothes were on his bed, picked through like he had grabbed what he needed and left. Most of his weapons appeared to be missing, and there was a note on the table, He glanced down at it, and it was what he expected. Sam had gotten a call from the hunters nearby about a ghost problem, it shouldn't be a big deal, he should be back tomorrow.

Dean sat down on the bed, leaning over to pluck his shoelaces open, still feeling a faint sting of disappointment that Cas wasn't here.

A rustle of noise and he jerked up again, head whipping to the side. He could see a shadow moving in the bathroom, and got up, kicking his loose shoes off.

Quite suddenly, the door opened and Castiel popped his head out, looking faintly peeved.

"Are you coming in or not?" The door swung closed, tapping against the doorframe and opening up a crack.

Dean stood shocked, before peeling off his shirt and striding to the door. He nudged it open with his shoulder, peeking inside. He could see the mirror, and Castiel's reflection in it. Blue eyes met his, amused again.

Castiel rolled his shoulders back, the tan overcoat sliding off. The angel caught it in one hand, folding it over and placing it atop the counter.

Dean stepped into the bathroom, hovering awkwardly for a moment just inside Cas's personal space, until the angel leaned backward, the cloth of his ill-fitted suit pressing against Dean's bare chest.

Castiel seemed preoccupied with undoing the long line of buttons on his undershirt, but tilted his head obligingly when Dean ducked down to place his cheek against the side of his angel's neck.

Dean brushed his lips against the soft skin, forming silent syllables as he moved upward. His hands slid around to rest on Cas's hips, the tip of the hunter's nose brushing behind the shell of his ear. He gently tugged on the white undershirt, pulling it out from where it had been tucked into the angel's waistband.

He placed a kiss in the hollow behind Castiel's ear, trailing small kisses up the curve of his ear, drawing the earlobe between his lips.

He heard a soft inhale of breath as he slipped his fingers under the white shirt, pressing against skin and the smooth curve of the man's waist. He felt Castiel put his hands on top of his own, fingers capable of healing and destruction weaving around each other. His hands were pulled forward, until his arms were wrapped fully around the smaller man, chest pressed against his back.

Dean shifted, Castiel's ass pressing against his hips through their pants. He gave the man's ear a small nip, relishing in the way Cas's movements abruptly froze. The hunter continued on that trend, teeth and lips scraping gently against his ear, biting back down the curve of his jawbone, the side of his neck. The collar hampered movement any lower, so Dean pulled back and placed an open-mouthed kiss to the back of Castiel's spine, teeth scraping the small rise of bone beneath skin.

The angel released his fingers, stepping away for a moment and shrugging off both the white shirt and suit coat, letting them fall to the floor. Just as he started to turn back toward Dean, the hunter stepped right up into his space, lips pressing against lips, fingers sliding up the sides of his neck to card through black hair.

Someone had moaned, and Dean wasn't sure who it had been, but he opened his mouth and traced a tongue over the man's bottom lip. Castiel kissed back eagerly, tongue and playful teeth and their bodies pressed so close together, a single line from chest to hip.

Dean felt a pressure and stepped back, finding himself pushed up against a wall and feeling a thrill of arousal shoot through his groin. Lips were still moving against his own, but Castiel's hands were trailing down his chest and abdomen, dull fingernails scraping against skin.

Rough fingertips slid along the cut of his hips, pausing to press into the hollows just beside bone.

He pulled back from the kiss, tucking his head down to kiss Cas's chin, the curve of his jaw, and the soft skin under his throat. He was definitely the one who groaned this time, as the other man stepped impossibly closer, feet pushing his legs apart so Cas could stand right up between them.

He was trapped and confined, but the fingers on his skin and the mouth now trailing over his collarbone and chest negated any complaints he might of had. His fingers raked through dark hair, tugging on it gently, pausing to massage his scalp.

Dean couldn't help but chuckle when Castiel stopped completely, pressing his head back into the rubbing. A fond smile lingered around his lips as he pressed circles into the base of the man's skull, sliding around to behind his ears and over his temples. He let his hands fall to Cas's shoulders, inhaling sharply when a hot mouth suddenly latched on to one of his nipples.

Dean tilted his head back against the wall, lungs jerking as teeth pinched the sensitive bud, holding it in place while a slick tongue flicked ruthlessly against it.  
His mouth retreated, placing a quick kiss to Dean's sternum before laying siege to the other one. The hunter's fingers dug into the muscle of Cas's shoulders, eyes closed in pleasure.

Castiel's fingers slid around the hem of Dean's jeans, mouth pulling back from its mission. He abruptly shoved his hands down the back of his pants, long fingers cupping a muscular ass and digging in, pulling the hunter's weight up, groins pressing together.

Dean made a breathy sort of moan, draping his arms over Cas's shoulders and rolling his hips up into the sensation. Briefly, he wondered about the position, if Cas was strong enough to do what he thought he was about to do.

The hands slid out of his pants, cupping the backs of his thighs and hauling him up. Dean grabbed tightly to the angel's shoulders.

"Holy fuck" Right, Angel. Superhuman strength.

Castiel pressed him more firmly against the wall, Dean's long legs wrapping around his waist and a rather prominent erection pushing against his stomach, obvious even through jeans.

Castiel's hands found their place on Dean's ass, holding him up while kneading at the muscle.

"That is my intention, yes."

Dean looked down at him, confused and wild-eyed, before realization dawned.

He choked out a laugh, hands cupping the sides of Cas's neck, kissed the top of his forehead.

"You're ridiculous and awesome, you know that?"

Cas seemed to preen at the compliment, the corners of his eyes crinkling like he was trying to hold back a smile.

He regained a look of serious contemplation, something that Dean thought completely inappropriate considering the guy had him pinned up against the wall like a 90-pound chick.

"I do believe my intention was to join you in a shower, before we became distracted."

The green-eyed man felt his erection throb, the idea definitely sitting well with him. Wet skin, maybe those gorgeous lips wrapped around his cock...

Dean bent over, cupping the side of Cas's face to kiss him repeatedly, his words coming out between breaths of air.

"That. Sounds. Like..." He paused, their breaths mingling. Cas leaned up against him, letting the wall support a bit of his weight, the heat of his crotch pressing harder into the man's stomach. He rolled his hips up, breath stuttering again.

"Like a plan."

Castiel nodded, giving his ass one last squeeze before slowly letting go. Dean clung to his waist for a moment, feeling like a giant koala bear before stepping back down, the tile cold even through his socks.

A twist of his wrist, and the shower started up, across the bathroom. .

Right.

Angel.

**Awesome.**

* * *

Castiel backed toward the shower and of course Dean followed, chasing brushes of lips and a gentle caress across his ribs. He could breathe in the steam in the air, and reached out to hold the angel's waist between his hands, palms slotting perfectly into the slight dip between ribs and hips.

Cas slid his hands up the outside of his hunter's arms, hand slotting over the place where a pink scar still sat. He could feel a strange electric tingle run through the mark, shivering despite himself.

Dean leaned in for another kiss, but the angel pulled back from it, meeting his confused look with a deadpan stare. Long fingers trailed down Dean's sides again, hooking into his belt loops and yanking him forward in a clash of hips and skin. He bit his lip, reaching out to steady himself against the shower's wall as Castiel crouched down, then seemed to slither back up, stomach, hips, thigh all pressing up between Dean's legs and lighting his brain on fire.

Cas's hands slid up his back, digging into sore muscles and tracing over his vertebrae. Dean returned the touch, nuzzling against dark hair, hands sliding over the skin of his angel's back.

He felt his button come undone and paused, confused. He could still feel Cas's hands on his back, cupping over the jut of his shoulderblades.

His zipper slid down slowly, the vibration shooting arousal into his gut, along with the realization that he was being pantsed via angel mojo. He tilted back, looking down at his crotch and seeing nothing. Cas was grinning mischievously in his peripherals, and suddenly a wave of heat pressed firmly against his crotch, cupping around his length through the cloth and rubbing.

Dean bit back a groan, his forehead falling onto Cas's shoulder, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of an invisible force groping him, the cloth shifting with it.

Cas cupped the back of Dean's head, the other under his jaw and lifting the man into a wet kiss, tongue flicking over his bottom lip when Dean groaned again, hips jutting forward.

The pressure from the angel's telekinesis slid lower, cupping his balls and acting like a third hand with way too many fingers curling up to tease. Dean panted into Cas's mouth, the pressure building between his legs.

"I'm not gunna make it into the shower if you keep this up, man."

Cas hummed, hands splayed over Dean's neck, cupping his head and keeping it in place as he kissed the man's cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, his forehead. Dean bit back a gasp, fingers digging into Cas's biceps and hips jutting forward to find nothing.

It was a contrast of sensations, something hot and hard feeling him up without any sort of shame, pulling and pushing his dick, rubbing against the base or head. Meanwhile, Cas's hands were perfectly innocent, rubbing small circles into the sides of Dean's head, while his lips dropped small kisses over his face.

"C-Cas, I'm... I'm going to-."

He felt it change directions abruptly to slide over his head, wiggling against his slit while another part of it rubbed between his balls. It pressed up deliciously, writhing in place, and he was gone.

He gasped for air, rocking into the sensation while his mind seemed to explode into tiny spinning fragments. Castiel just held him up, a sturdy support for weak legs and clenching fingers.

They stood for a moment, and as Dean gathered his wits back together, he felt a creeping embarrassment take over.

They weren't even out of their pants, and he just came like a teenager on his first date. Shit, man.

He glanced up, knowing that the heat was crawling up his neck. Cas's face was almost smug. Ass.

The angel reached down as soon as Dean had his legs back under him, pushing insistently at the pants and undergarments the hunter was wearing. His jeans fell in a puddle on the floor.

"Hey, I'm not as young as I used to be, give me a second, will you?"

Castiel ignored him, pushing the boxer-briefs just over the curve of his ass and letting them sit there. His warm hands started on the muscles there, and Dean gave a faint huff of laughter at the look of pleased satisfaction on Cas's face.

"Like my ass, do you?"

Castiel looked up, bright blue eyes meeting green.

"I find both the appearance and texture of it very pleasing."

Dean's eyes were at half-mast already, a hiss of breath escaping his lips when Cas pulled the cheeks apart, fingers digging roughly into the muscle.

"Your reactions are fascinating as well."

Dean licked his lips, hands finding the zipper of Castiel's pants, not hesitating to undo them.

"Yeah, well, right now I'm more interested in your reactions."

He slid the man's dress pants down, pushing him backward toward the shower. Castiel stepped out of the slacks, glancing back to make sure he wasn't going to trip on anything. Dean quickly removed his socks, throwing them to the floor, and pressing himself against Cas's front.

He turned them both around, and pulled Cas into the spray of the shower.

The angel's low voice purred something like approval, the water quickly slicking down their bodies. Cas still had his boxers on, and the hunter wasn't in any hurry to remedy that. He slid his hands down under the edge of the legs, pushing his hands up to slide over the angel's own rear, causing the boxers to tighten snugly around his erection.

Dean knelt down, hands sliding back down the back of Cas's legs, and placed a kiss on the base of his length, through the cloth.

"Dean..." He tapped the back of Cas's knee in acknowledgement, but continued to place open-mouth kisses along the outline of flesh.

He flicked his tongue out, wiggling it into the crown of the head, and sucking the water out of the cloth above it.

Castiel made a low sound, his fingers grasping tightly to Dean's hair.

"Dean, please." The hunter scraped his teeth over the head, something in his chest doing a little twirl of delight to see Cas tip his head back, inhaling abruptly.

Quite suddenly, Dean stood up, sliding his hands over the tops of the angel's thighs, placing a quick peck on his lips that left the blue eyes a bit bewildered.

He grabbed a bottle of shampoo, the cheap stuff from a drugstore, and squirted some of it into his hand. The smell of something fruity puffed into the air, and Dean reached up, slathering it over Cas's dripping black locks.

That earned a squawk of indignation, but the angel quickly settled down, a faint hum of pleasure rumbling out of his throat.

Dean ran his sudsy hands down the angel's chest, stepping in close and pressing his own growing erection against the one already throbbing inside Castiel's boxers. He rubbed up against it, his arms looping around Cas's back so they were pressed chest-to-chest, Dean's mouth at his ear, voice at a whisper.

"Once we're out of the shower, I'm going to suck your cock."

Hell, just saying those words shot arousal down to his groin. Cas's reaction was no different, a stuttery jerk of the hips pushing against his, and a breathless groan.

He didn't quite expect Castiel to grab his ass, pushing him up against the shower's wall and grinding their erections together.

The surprised grunt turned into a low moan, and Dean's arms tightened around his angel's midsection.

Their lips met in a sloppy kiss, breaking apart suddenly as the taste of shampoo invaded their mouth.

Cas's face twisted in disgust and he bent backward, letting the shower spray clean his face and rinse away the suds in his hair. Dean just leaned forward, trailing his lips along a line of the exposed throat. His lips were twisted up into a grin.

**This was going to be fantastic**


End file.
